


Goodnight, Lovers

by CaptainSlow



Series: Winter Phapsody in five parts [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: I can't stop send help, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, possibly so disgustingly sweet you're all gonna either puke or have toothache but what the hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSlow/pseuds/CaptainSlow
Summary: "Well, it's not my fault that – speaking in the language of your immature Instagram fanbase – you're a totalsnack, Joe."





	Goodnight, Lovers

_When you're born a lover_  
_You're born to suffer_  
_Like all soul sisters_  
_And soul brothers. *©_

_*_

It's only a week before Joe and Ben meet again, this time at the opposite end of the world, in the sunny California instead of the rainy London, but to Joe it feels like they haven't seen each other for seven months instead of seven days and he can barely drag his existence through them. The intensity with which he misses Ben is astonishing, and, frankly, Joe cannot quite recall a time he longed to be with someone as desperately as he longs to be with Ben. In comparison to the state of infatuation he's in now, all his previous romances fade considerably. The depth of the emotion surprises him because he used to naively believe only a week ago, before his return to the States, that now that he and Ben have a sort of affair going for real, his desire would be at least partly quenched and thus easier to bear.

As it turns out right after his departure, though, their new status of lovers has made absolutely nothing at all any simpler. Thankfully, there is some certainty at last, and it's a bliss to know that his feeling to Ben is mutual, but their forced separation proves to be difficult as soon as he steps on board of the plane that is to carry him back to New York, and that is only the beginning of it. Having to watch through the window as London along with Ben in it stay behind is a pure agony, and coming home several hours later doesn't feel like coming home at all – it seems too big and too empty and somehow alien because he's returning here as an utterly different person. It's an odd feeling – he's been away for just several days, but so much has changed in such short a period that bringing back all those utterly magnificent memories, of the love confessions and those wonderful kisses they shared – too few of them, Joe thinks wistfully – and of the blissful night they spent together and the subsequent morning in Ben's arms, creates a weird sort of dissonance. He can barely recognise his home at all because his mind and, more importantly, his heart are still not here. They're lagging behind somewhere in London, with Ben, and the feeling is profoundly and unexpectedly unsettling.

Which is virtually ridiculous – after all, he's going to see Ben again, in just a week. They have a hell of an agenda planned: parties, weddings, award ceremonies and road trips, which, at the time of arranging it all, seemed absolutely amazing, and to some extent it still is, but what Joe would really prefer to all those entertainments is spending a week with Ben, just the two of them, all alone, preferably in a place devoid of prying eyes of both friends and strangers, a secluded safe haven where they could simply be together. London wasn't enough, just that one night with Ben wasn't enough, and, reluctantly, Joe has to admit to himself that he's most probably in for way more than he initially bargained for. He's sure Ben's oncoming visit won't be enough, either, and even before they meet and part again, he's already missing him terribly.  

They speak on the phone every day, and what Joe expected to be just brief calls turn out as lengthy conversations, which end up in the same manner – saying just how much they miss each other, and the feeling is so profoundly bittersweet it takes Joe's breath away every single time. Ben seems to be in a similarly anguished state, and every  _'Love you'_  he says – ever so quietly, which makes the confession sound extraordinarily intimate and sincere – shocks Joe to his very core, making him yearn their next meeting even more than he thought was possible. It's really astonishing just how painless their transition from friends to lovers went – from that very first, totally terrified, _'I think I'm in love with you, mate',_  to the current  _'I love you, babe'_  several times over their conversation, but perhaps Joe simply gives them too little credit – after all, it's not like their relationship started just a few days ago. It's been going on for months on end, really, what with all the flirting and teasing they did before any confessions were made, having given them plenty of time to understand and accept their feelings. At the end of each and every one of such calls, after they say their respective goodbyes, the only thing Joe feels like doing is hugging the blasted phone close to his chest and staying like that for a while because it still possesses the memories of Ben's voice, so real and close despite the thousands of miles separating them.

Joe heads for Los Angeles on the new year's eve, where he's due to meet with Gwilym again, and it simultaneously brings a much needed distraction from his obsession with Ben and, at the same time, somehow makes it even harder to bear because their conversations one way or another tend to gravitate towards either their  _Bohemian Rhapsody_  experience, or the time spent together off set, inevitably evoking the memories of Ben, and Joe cannot help missing him even more.

That wretched week he spends without Ben seems to drag on for ages on end, longer than all the previous months they weren't together combined. All the plans and arrangements for their attending the Golden Globes ceremony and the rest of them, for Gwil coming to California with him and for Ben celebrating the new year at home and joining them later for Allen's wedding and the subsequent events were made months ago, when neither of them could have even vaguely imagined what affair they would end up with. Had they known, Ben would be here with him now, staying for longer than just a little over a week. As things are, though, Ben is due to arrive on the eve of Allen's designated wedding day, two days before the Globes.

Thank heaven for small mercies, though, he, Gwilym and Ben are all staying at the same hotel. On the day of Ben's arrival, utterly unable to distract and wishing to see him desperately, Joe persuades Gwil to actually rent a car and head for the airport to meet him there. The big guy doesn't need much coaxing and agrees almost immediately, and for the first time ever since he got acquainted with him, Joe doesn't quite appreciate his company. It is deeply embarrassing, but he can't help it for the life of him. On the other hand, he could perhaps be forgiven for it – after all, he hasn't been this utterly smitten with anyone for ages, and the only thing on his mind at the current moment is the desire to see Ben and be able to tell him that he loves him personally.

Absurdly, Joe is so nervous waiting at the Arrivals that his hands are shaking and his palms are sweating and his heart has taken a permanent residence somewhere in his throat. Joe tells himself to calm the hell down, that such state is more fitting for a besotted teenager, not a gown-up man; that there's nothing to be anxious about; that there's at least some certainty about his relationship with Ben; that he is desired and everything is okay, but calming down is beyond his ability. He feels like an utterly ridiculous youth, very infatuated and very horny, on his very first date.

When Ben finally emerges in the Arrivals lounge, Joe's heart decides to drop into his stomach and do a somersault there. It's only been a week, but seeing Ben at last gives Joe such a surge of raw joy it's no mean fit to just stay where he is and not dart off to give his lover a proper greeting. He feels himself grinning at Ben so hard his jaw actually aches. Somewhere at the periphery of his vision, he's aware of Gwil standing beside him, waving and saying something, but he's got no clue as to what it is. He's only got eyes for Ben, stunningly handsome even despite his slightly bedraggled look, apparently courtesy of the long haul from London, dressed in rumpled hoody and sweatpants; Ben, whose smile seems to illuminate the entire goddamn lounge; Ben, whose eyes are directed right at him, and they're  _shining_ , brighter than Joe has ever seen them before.

What Joe desperately wishes to be able to do is take the man into his arms and kiss him smack on the mouth, right here, with all the witnesses around, and never mind that five minutes later the whole internet will have a field being rapidly filled with sensational photos of  _Bohemian Rhapsody_  stars going gay for each other. The rational part of his mind somehow manages to prevail, though, so Joe ends up with his arms around Ben as he pulls him into an embrace which is perhaps way too tight for a friendly hug but otherwise decent enough, or at least he dearly hopes so.

It stops being decent when Gwil, apparently fed up with having to wait for his turn to greet Ben, joins the hug, squeezing them both in his arms with an exasperated,  _'What the hell?!'_.

"Whoa-whoa," Ben laughs somewhere so very close to Joe's ear it makes the latter shiver, "I missed you too, lads."

At the same time, he feels Ben's hand tighten discretely on his side, which provokes yet another surge of pure joy, so much so that his knees are threatening to get unhinged.  _What the hell_ , _really,_ Joe echoes Gwil in his mind, and since his mouth is already practically on Ben's neck and since they're effectively shielded by Gwil's massive torso from the prying eyes of other passengers, Joe turns his head and lets his lips press to the side of Ben's throat in a tender, delicate kiss he's been longing to give Ben all this time. He can feel the vein pulsing there under the warm skin, and it makes Joe want to howl. Simultaneously, Ben's hand tightens its hold on his side once more, and it's such a relief to know that they're still on the same wavelength here.

When they finally disentangle themselves from one another, Joe catches Ben's gaze on himself. It's fleeting but so incredibly eloquent, conveying all Joe needs to know without a single word uttered. Ben's eyes shine with longing that reflects Joe's own, there's affection, too, adoration, and, finally, so much love that it almost makes Joe dizzy. For a moment, he feels bad for Gwil, for keeping him ignorant and thus a little left out, but oh well, someday they'll probably let him – and the rest of their little band, too – know about their somewhat changed relationship, if there's still anything to tell about at all. After all, they haven't made any promises and there are absolutely no plans for the future. They're running their trial version, but it doesn't make Joe's emotions any less profound because of it.

In the car, by old habit Ben occupies the passenger's seat next to Joe, and during the ride back to the city the latter keeps feeling Ben's eyes on himself. The intensity of the stare is overwhelming, and Joe doesn't dare look back at him even though he wants it desperately – he's scared he simply won't be able to return his gaze back to the road. The three of them exchange the latest news and there's nothing unusual about their easy-going chatter, but what neither Joe, nor Ben notice is the studying, evaluating and somewhat amused way in which Gwilym looks at them from his vantage point in the back seat. After a while, he extracts his phone from the pocket of his jacket, types a short message and sends it off to Rami. 

 _'Help,'_  it says,  _'I desperately need a company for the rest of the evening. Looks like those two aren't gonna leave their hotel room till tmr. With any luck, they'll show up at Al's wedding.'_

*

As a matter of fact, Ben and Joe obviously have separate rooms in the hotel they're staying at, but Gwil's right about one thing – they're not planning to either sleep there separately, or indeed go out anywhere, not tonight anyway. Sympathising with the two poor besotted sods who have apparently been missing each other an awful lot over the past week, he excuses himself saying that he'd probably have an early night before Allen's big day tomorrow, to which both naïve fools react with very badly feigned surprise. It's almost funny just how shitty actors can be at concealing their emotions in real life, after all. Gwil has a hard time trying to keep the straight face while watching them since they obviously don't want their conspiracy busted sky-high this early. Besides, he's had enough of the lovelorn Joe over the past several days, and if they all went out all together for a drink and a bite right now, he suspects he'd have to bear with the two of them being utterly smitten and looking longingly at each other, and no, thank you very much, it's not his idea of having fun in California. So Gwil leaves them to it, hoping they'll have enough of each other tonight so that they could be just a little less enamoured and a little more adequate tomorrow.

They wish one another good night and head for their respective rooms, Gwil smirking to himself at the entire ludicrous performance.

*

In his room, Joe remains behind the closed door, taking deep breaths and counting to one hundred, just in case. Then he turns around, opens the door and is about to leave and head for Ben's room, but it turns out he's been outmanoeuvred. Ben's already nearly there, and before Joe can say or do anything, he's pushed gently back into the room, Ben's warm hands cupping his cheeks, Ben's mouth on his mouth, urgent, needy, kissing him hungrily. Joe can barely believe this is happening for real at last, and to prove to himself he's not dreaming it all, he pushes Ben against the closed door of his room, pressing into him with his whole body, deliriously happy to hear the latter let out a gasp so desperate it sends a thunderbolt of pure desire through Joe's very core. They kiss again, this time just a tad less erratically, taking their time to do it more or less properly, and when Joe squeezes his leg in between Ben's thighs, rubbing his hip against Ben's crotch, the latter shivers with his whole body, his hips jerking forward, and Joe can feel it against his own leg, the titillating hardness inside those very soft sweatpants.

Then Ben interrupts their kiss and with a groan lowers his head, remaining like that for a while, with his forehead pressed to Joe's mouth.

"Wait…" he gasps, sounding utterly unhinged. "Let me breathe, Joe, just give me a moment…  _fuck_."

All Joe can do is laugh, breathlessly, too, and hold Ben where he is, close against himself. Ben's hands leave Joe's face and slide limply to his shoulders instead.

"I thought 'twas gonna get easier to bear if we just started sleeping with each other," he murmurs, still sounding excitingly out of breath. Meanwhile, his hands relocate from Joe's shoulders and end up on the small of his back, pulling him closer until Joe's crotch is pressed to his. Their states of arousal are matching each other nicely, it seems.

"But no such luck, huh?" Joe whispers softly.

Ben shakes his head, silently, and Joe kisses his forehead, then his cheek, moving to his ear.

"I'm so in love with you, Ben," he murmurs.

"It felt like an entire fucking year," Ben replies in kind, voice hoarse with desire, choked and desperate. "I want you."

Then he leans his head back against the closed door and looks at Joe with eyes heavily lidded and misty with almost palpable yearning. His lips are parted and the tip of his tongue runs over them, leaving them wet and glistening in the soft electric lighting, and Joe thinks he's never before seen him this beautiful. A wavy lock of his blond hair falls onto his forehead, giving Ben a slightly dishevelled look, but somehow it suits him more than all his carefully styled hairdos, making him a real, warm, feeling human being instead of a cold flawless picture from a magazine. That plain black hoodie he's wearing makes a stark contrast against the fair skin of his neck, contributing to the general sense of softness and cosiness about him. Much as he's turned on, Joe simply cannot take his eyes off Ben, once again mesmerised, grounded to the spot by what a true perfection he makes. Add there his great sense of humour, his kind heart and just the right amount of modesty, and then it really becomes hard to fathom how a human being could possibly be this absolutely immaculate.

"Are you going to stand there all night just looking at me?" he asks Joe quietly, and there's that wonderful smile, the one which is tender and affectionate, stretching his lips.

"You're so beautiful, Ben," Joe murmurs in reply, still unable to take his eyes off him. "I just can't believe that the perfection that you are is mine."

Ben's smile grows just a tad wider and considerably fonder. " _All_  yours," he says, and that British accent of his drives Joe even more infatuated than he already is.

He shakes his head minutely, as if to clear it, but, predictably enough, it doesn't help. He's feeling as if he's being disassembled into the tiniest parts of his soul, all of which are somehow attracted to Ben, and there's very little of the previous Joe is left and a lot of a new version of him, the one which has so much of Ben in him. Dreamily, Joe reaches out and lets his fingertips run a tender caress over Ben's cheek, his thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth, and then Ben suddenly does something which undoes Joe completely. He turns his head and first presses a soft peck against Joe's palm, the feeling of it moist and slightly ticklish, and then brushes his parted lips against Joe's thumb. There's his wet tongue running over the pad of it, and then he sucks it into his mouth.

"Ben…" Joe breathes out, almost reverently so, as the wet hot softness envelops it.

He feels like he's on the verge of dissolving into a little puddle at Ben's feet right now, because that fuzziness that's settled in his chest and the pit of his stomach is threatening to spread through his entire body.

Meanwhile, Ben lets Joe's thumb slip out of his mouth and sucks it in again, his tongue swirling around and sliding against it, unequivocally enough.

"Oh my god…" Joe mutters, almost debilitated. He brushes the wet pad of his thumb over Ben's soft lips, parted and pliant as if ready and waiting to suck him inside again.

Ben actually huffs, quietly. "You look smitten."

Joe relocates his gaze from those tantalising, tempting, reddish lips to Ben's tantalising tempting greenish eyes. "You look gorgeous."

"Let's go, sugar," Ben says with a grin, suddenly looking mischievous. His hands relocate to Joe's hips and gently nudge him backwards, towards the bed.

"Sugar, huh?" Joe asks, letting himself be led willingly enough.

"I don't know, I haven't tried," Ben smiles, actually biting his lower lip. He truly does look simply ravishing. " _Yet_."

To that, Joe cannot say anything at all as his breath is caught in bis throat. They stop right in front of the bed, and, very slowly, Ben begins to unbutton Joe's shirt, never breaking the eye-contact between them.

"I've been dreaming about this," he whispers, and, button after button, Joe's shirt is done with and pulled out of his jeans.

Ben leans in, oh so excruciatingly slowly, and leaves a trail of featherlight kisses on the side of Joe's neck, directing them down as his hands push the garment off Joe's shoulders, just as teasingly unhurriedly. It feels as if Ben's unwrapping him, like some sort of very much desired present, and the feeling is exclusively exciting – sleeping with women, Joe's never before been unwrapped; he's been the  _unwrapper_.

 _So this is how you are_ , Joe thinks to himself,  _excellent not only in life but in bed, too; a perfect lover, attentive and affectionate and gentle_.

"I'm so incredibly lucky to have you," he says out loud, eyes closed, feeling Ben's kisses covering the side of his neck and his shoulder.

The next moment, Ben's lips press to his, soft and persistent.

"Shhh," he murmurs and shakes his head. "The luck is mine."

Joe grins at him, thinking he could probably die happily right at this very moment because it shouldn't be possible to want and love somebody as much as he loves Ben. Then he takes the hem of Ben's hoodie into his hands and pulls it up. Ben allows him to take it off, and now Joe's breath is taken away yet again, this time by the sight of this perfect body, those lean muscles and the sixpack and the perky dark nipples. Before he can stare for too long, though, Ben's arms wrap around his waist and his mouth ends up on Joe's neck again. Joe allows him to do whatever he wants, he's feeling perfectly fine with being unwrapped tonight, and he likes this excruciatingly slow tempo Ben has set. It's more suitable for enjoying every single moment of being close and intimate. With a contented smile, Joe buries his fingers into Ben's hair, massaging his scalp and letting them occasionally roam over the expanse of the bare skin of his shoulders and back.

Ben's hands, meanwhile, relocate to the button on Joe's jeans and the zip below it, which is curved over the considerable-sized boner inside. When it's open and his pants are pushed down his legs, Joe lets out a shaky sigh of relief. Ben's mouth relocates to Joe's chest as he keeps pushing the jeans down until they finally pull around Joe's feet so that he's able to step out of them, toeing off his shoes along the way. Ben kneels on the floor in front of him, and, thanks to their perfectly matching heights, his mouth ends up right in front of the bulge inside Joe's boxers.

"Oh my fucking god," Joe mutters.

He can hardly believe this is happening for real – there's a half-naked Ben Hardy, desired by thousands of people from all over the world, kneeling right in front of him, mouth half-open against his erection, and grinning up at him with that absolutely naughty smile of his. Just to prove himself that this is indeed taking place, Joe rakes his fingers through Ben's longish hair, and the latter apparently takes it as an encouragement. Ben's mouth presses to Joe's hard-on, and he drags it, half-open, all along his shaft, so motherfucking slowly Joe is afraid his heart is going to stop in his chest because of what a sheer unbearable torture it is. His hips jerk forward, and Ben lets out a happy huff.

"A bit impatient, are we?" he asks.

Joe looks down at him, incredulous, with his mouth hanging open.

"Didn't know you could be _such_ a tease," he breathes, hands still in Ben's hair.

"There're lots of things you don't know yet," Ben grins up at him, biting his lower lip, and pulls Joe's underwear down at last. His cock springs up merrily right at his face. "Whoa, hello there, buddy. Sit, Joe."

"Are you really going--" Joe starts asking, and he doesn't even know how he's going to finish his absurd question. Ben pulls him persistently down.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he smiles even wider. "Sit."

Joe obliges, stunned beyond his speaking ability. He doesn't know what exactly he expected from their meeting here. Sex was obviously on the agenda, but he couldn't have imagined it unfurling like this.

"I'm making myself a birthday present," Ben says quietly and licks his lips, looking positively lecherous. "And my birthday present is _you_."

"Oh fuck," Joe mutters and closes his eyes because no, he can't bear it anymore. It's too much, both for his mind and for his senses.

"Yeah, that's what it's all coming to," Ben agrees and then suddenly Joe cannot breathe anymore.

How could he when the tip of his cock is enveloped into that same moist, hot softness of Ben's mouth, and Joe wants to howl from the sheer intensity of it but he cannot. He can't pull in a single breath. He's gone.

Slowly, he reclines back on the bed, propping his arms into the mattress, completely unravelled by the sensation of Ben's lips and tongue sliding along his shaft. They're somewhat hesitant but unmistakably greedy, and Joe wonders vaguely if Ben's ever done it to any other guy before. He seems way too good at this. Joe's hips thrust forward by their own accord, and he's brought back to the world by Ben's choked gasp and his hands that squeeze on his hips and push him gently but firmly down.

"Easy there, it's my first time," he chuckles, sounding both bewildered and just a little flustered. His lips don't really move away from Joe's now saliva-coated cock, and the sight is as lewd as it is arousing.

"Ben," Joe murmurs softly, brushing a few strands of hair off Ben's forehead. "Benny." And when Ben looks up at him, "I love you so much."

Ben only smirks at him, happily, and takes him back into his mouth, this time sucking at him with self-absorbed precision. Joe curses under his breath, unable to contain a groan, doing the best he can to prevent himself from ramming his cock all the way down Ben's throat.

This goes on for a while which simultaneously seems way too short and almost eternal. Joe cannot explain how this happens, but then again, in the state he's currently in, it's a miracle he's still able to have any thoughts at all, so it's no surprise that actually understanding anything is beyond him. When Ben finally moves back, letting him out of his mouth with an utterly obscene smack of his lips, Joe is halfway to the land of no return, so he can't help a desperately disappointed whine. When he opens his eyes at last, to see what Ben's up to because all of a sudden there's no contact between them and it feels utterly wrong, mere being away from Ben feels wrong at this point, the sight which is revealed to him robs him of his breathing ability yet again. It seems breathing is not one of his fortes tonight.

Ben's now stark naked, seemingly about to crawl in bed with him, and, oh sweet heaven, what a sight he makes. He's a Greek god incarnate, Joe thinks, stupefied by his arousal and his desire and his love.

"Looks like my present to myself is pretty happy," Ben smiles down at him in an oddly conspiring way. "Move over, loverboy."

Joe does, obediently, shifting further back over the bed, unable to take his eyes off Ben, off his flushed cheeks and the slightly puffy, wet lips, and his eyes which seem darker now, off his mussed hair and his straining muscles and his cock, hard and thick and perfect. And then Ben is on him, flush against his body, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, legs entangled with his, and he's kissing Joe, impossibly slowly and thoroughly, making Joe envy his self-control.

He bucks his hips upwards, in a desperate attempt to intensify the friction between them, to feel Ben's hard-on along his own, but for some reason Ben keeps moving away, not completely but keeping the contact between them to the minimum.

"Ben, please," Joe mumbles into his lover's mouth and, with his hands on Ben's wonderful round behind, tries to push him down.

Ben doesn't reply, but his mouth moves away from his and he gasps for air as if he's just been drowning. Then, surprisingly gracefully, he manages to roll them both on the bed so that Joe ends up on top of him, trapped in between his legs, and then it's Ben who's pulling Joe's hips to himself. They kiss again, for an utterly indefinable period of time – maybe for a few minutes, maybe for a quarter of an hour – and then there's something brushing Joe's shoulder and Ben's muffled voice apparently trying to tell him something.

"Huh?" Joe hums, moving back with reluctance, and takes another look at Ben.

The latter swallows as he tries to catch his breath and that something brushes his shoulder again, so Joe take a glance sideways. There's something in Ben's hand but in the state he's in, it's quite tricky to be able to understand what's going on.

"What..." Joe sounds out of breath, too. "What's that?"

Instead of a reply, Ben closes his eyes, a smile on his lips looking rather flustered, and opens his hand. In it, there's an unmistakable foil pack – condoms – and a small white tube. First, Joe wants to ask what the hell that is, and then the realisation hits him with the force of a freight train, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying.

"What d'you think?" Ben asks at last, short of breath and sounding utterly oversexed.

"Ben…" Joe says slowly, for the time being completely forgetting about his urgent state. "Are you…"

He doesn't finish the question because he doesn't know what on earth he wants to ask as it's all pretty obvious. Are you sure? Are you okay? Are you really thinking what I'm thinking?

"Yes," Ben replies to his unvoiced question, perhaps to all of them, and opens his eyes. Then he pulls Joe back to himself, but doesn't quite kiss him, not yet. His lips linger on Joe's, a promising, taunting caress. "Do me," he murmurs, ever so quietly. "I want you, Joe. Please."

It's Joe's turn to swallow nervously, and just to give himself more confidence, he kisses Ben himself.

"I… Look, I'm not… I've never…" he trails off, sounding utterly inadequate even to his own ears.

To this, Ben only chuckles, just a tad nervously. "I think you'll figure it all out pretty fast. Come on, Joe, please," he rolls his hips, reminding Joe about their respective urgent states. "It's all right. Do me."

By way of reply, Joe kisses him again, unable to believe that this is happening for real. Over the months of his obsession with Ben, he's contemplated sex with him more than once – much more than that, in fact – and yes, he did wonder what it'd be like to do it the proper way. In the past week, though, the only thing he could think about at all was just seeing Ben again. Joe is rather scared by it all, but he's even more turned on and in love, so yes, he's sure he'll figure out the minor details along the way, with Ben's help.

While still kissing him, Joe pries the tube and condoms out of Ben's moist fingers, giving them a brief squeeze along the way, feeling how Ben spreads his legs even wider, and the implication of what Ben wants from him is utterly mind-blowing. Deciding that there's never too little lube, Joe slathers it generously over Ben's entrance, experimentally allowing an occasional finger to slip inside. Ben gasps into his mouth as Joe does so, tongue lapping all over his lips, which is reassuring enough to make him proceed with more confidence. Then he slips on the rubber, coats his own erection with just as generous amount of lube and presses the tip of his cock against Ben's asshole. He leans in to Ben, and the latter kisses him readily, greedily. Both of his hands end up on Joe's shoulders.

"Come on," Ben murmurs, encouragingly enough. "It's all right."

"Just lemme know if it stops being all right, okay?" Joe asks softly.

He feels Ben give him a nod, feels his tongue in his own mouth, slippery and nimble, teasing, and it's as much as he needs to know about whether this all is all right. So, tentatively, he presses his cock against Ben's entrance. For a moment, it seems like it's never going to work, but pushing just a tad harder, he does slide in, easily enough. Joe lets out a gasp from the sheer physicality of it all, from how hot and tight it is and from the mere realisation of being inside Ben, as close to him as it could possibly get, and from the immense pleasure it brings. At the same time, Ben's breath hitches and his hands clench on Joe's shoulder, not exactly pushing him away but rather holding him in place. Ben's muscles squeeze around him, and against him Ben's body tenses considerably.

"Ben?" Joe asks anxiously. It's a pure torture to abstain from pushing further in in the state of arousal he's in, but the last thing he wants to do is cause Ben more discomfort than strictly necessary.

"'m fine," Ben murmurs in reply, sounding utterly winded, but, to Joe's relief, the hold of his hand on his shoulders loosens just a bit. Then he starts to breathe. "Fine, go on."

Joe does, slipping further inside slowly, inch by inch, feeling Ben's fast, shallow breaths against his own mouth and how the hold of his hands on his shoulders either tightens or loosens. They're not kissing as they were before, but Joe's lips are on Ben's, and, occasionally, he joins them together. Once he's fully inside, he stops, giving Ben a moment to get used to the sensation, allowing him to lead and choose the pace he feels more comfortable with. For a while, all Ben does is simply try to catch his breath, his inhales and exhales an erratic sequence of warm puffs of air on Joe's face, but when Ben kisses him, softly and much more slowly than before, Joe takes it as a signal to proceed.

Ever so cautiously, he starts thrusting his hips, simultaneously moving away from Ben's mouth so that he was able to see every single reaction on his face properly. His eyes are screwed tightly, mouth half-open and cheeks flushed, and it all of a sudden reminds Joe of Ben's Rogerina personification, the way Ben looked then, being held in his arms, wanton and staring up at him half-hypnotised. There's no mascara and lip gloss on him now, but he still looks utterly pornographic, and it blows Joe's mind completely. He's already utterly infatuated with Ben, he loves him more than he ever loved anyone before, he desires him desperately to the point of wanting to howl, but now all of those seem to be intensified even more.

"I'll be damned, Benny," he gasps, completely enchanted by just how tempting Ben is, and begins to move a little faster.

As he does so, he also hooks one of his arms under Ben's waist, lifting his hips and thus slightly changing the angle, and on his next thrust Ben moans. This time, it's unmistakably a sound of pleasure, which is a relief. Joe repeats the motion, and it provokes a quiet  _'Ohfuck'_ , the last syllable ending up with another almost melodic semi-formed whine. Taking it as an encouragement, Joe starts to push just a bit harder, setting up a regular tempo which seems to suit them both. Ben's hands on Joe's shoulders stop clawing at his skin at last and simply grip them tightly, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

They don't kiss anymore – Ben doesn't seem to be capable of it, not quite – so Joe takes the chance to look at him as he's beginning to fuck him for real. His head is thrown back against the pillow, eyes shut and there's sweat glistening on his forehead and chest. His mouth is half-open and, occasionally, there's either his tongue brushing over his lips, or his teeth sinking into the lower one. He looks like a masterpiece created by some renaissance genius artist, what with his wavy blond hair and those fair eyelashes and his red lips and his perfect build and those veins standing prominently out on his neck.

 _And this masterpiece is all mine_ , Joe thinks deliriously.

"I love you," he murmurs desperately, out of breath, almost out of his mind, as he leans back to Ben's lips. "I love you so much."

Instead of a reply, Ben's arms wrap around him securely, pulling him down all the while Joe thrusts his hips, now a little more erratically than before. He ends up almost lying on top of Ben, face nuzzled into the crook of Ben's neck. His skin is moist and Joe sticks his tongue out, tasting it, feeling the racing pulse hammering just beneath his lips.

It's hard to say how long it lasts – Joe's utterly lost in so many sensations, in the immense pleasure that starts in the region of his genitals and seems to spread throughout his entire body, in the way Ben's hips push forward and up to meet his thrusts, in the feeling of love so profound it's threatening to tear him apart if he keeps it inside, so, as he fucks Ben, he cannot help repeating little silly endearments, unconnected, incoherent, pronounced softly, muffled into Ben's mouth, or his chest, or his neck, and every time he says anything about love, Ben's state seems to grow just a tad more desperate, which is such a joy to behold.

"Come on, Ben," he gasps, "come for me, love, please."

Joe repeats it all again and again, chants it like a mantra because it seems that, just like in life, in between the sheets he simply isn't capable of keeping his mouth shut. For a heartbeat, Ben's eyes open wide and stare right into his, huge and beautiful and shining, and then he closes them again. His next breath gets caught in his throat as he comes with a violent shake of his body, crying out softly and muffling the sound against the side of Joe's neck. Joe keeps on fucking him for a while longer, but then there are Ben's hands on his shoulders again, weakly pushing him away.

"Joe, st--" he stutters, suffocating, not sounding quite like himself. "Stop, please,  _oh_   _fuck_."

Joe does, pulling out, and it’s a sort of a small miracle that he still hasn't come, worked up as he was when they started. Ben lets out a shaky, voiced sigh as his body goes all limp in Joe's arms, and Joe embraces him tight, finishing himself off simply humping Ben's hip. He doesn't really need much, and Ben's breathless gasps against his ear are a huge turn on.

"I love you," Ben murmurs, choking on his own breath.

Joe comes with a groan, muffling it against Ben's lips, partly because of just how utterly amazing that suffocated confession sounded, and then crashes breathless, spent and strengthless on top of him, feeling inexplicably right. He can barely breathe, let alone think more or less coherently, but he still can't help observing just how incredibly satisfying everything is with Ben. Joe never really believed before, not after his last relationship was over anyway, that he would be lucky enough to meet a person he'd feel this profoundly at peace with, completely at home no matter what they do together, have sex or travel or party or talk, but with Ben it seems to be surpassing all he could possibly dream of.

"Are you okay?" Joe asks, and oh god, it requires an effort of will even to string words together.

"I'm so much more than just okay," Ben chuckles, sounding both bone-tired and high as the sky. "I think I've never been this much okay in my entire life. You're magnificent, Joe, and I fucking love you."

Joe grins, feeling like a complete deliriously happy fool, but that's what he is, after all, so that's perfectly all right, too. Every single thing seems to be all right tonight.

 

They don't stay up for long afterwards. The first thing Ben does when they more or less descend from the post-coital blissful high is light a cigarette and smoke it while still in bed, reclining against Joe's chest. It's against the hotel rules but he says he cannot be arsed to get up and leave Joe's side, so he uses a glass on the bedside table as a makeshift ashtray. They don't speak while he's smoking, but Joe doesn't mind it. It gives him an opportunity to simply look at Ben. He can't see his face properly in the position they're in, only his profile, but Ben's closed eyes as he lets out the smoke in a long exhale, and a dreamy smile on his lips tell him all he needs to know. He looks thoroughly satisfied and unforgivably handsome. Impulsively, Joe reaches out and takes Ben's hand, the one that's not holding the cigarette, bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. He sees Ben's smile grow wider as he turns his head to give Joe a sideway glance, and it's so warm and so loving he's scared his poor heart won't be able to bear it, after all. And then Ben pulls their joint hands towards himself and kisses Joe's fingers in turn.

"We're getting good at this, I think," he grins, and Joe laughs, nuzzling the top of Ben's dishevelled head.

Their hands remain joint together for quite a while.

*

As sleep gradually eases its grip on him, Joe turns in Ben's arms, pressing himself even closer to him, practically clinging to that gorgeous warm body, and nuzzles his mouth against Ben's ear, taking in a lungful of his smell. He feels Ben's arms tightening around him and hears him huff softly. The next moment Ben's head turns just a little, until the corner of his mouth brushes against the tip of Joe's nose. The latter feels the soft press of his lips on it and cannot help an utterly foolish grin. He hides it against Ben's cheek.

It's astounding just how close they are, and even more so that even this is not enough. All Joe wants to do right now is fidget against Ben so that he could feel him with every square inch of his own skin, he wants to entangle their legs even more than they already are, he wants to run his hands all over him unceasingly, stroking and caressing and continuing to explore the expanse of his perfection of a body, discovering more sweet spots that would make Ben's breath hitch again. Even more so, Joe cannot stop kissing him. He can't quite understand how and why this is happening, whether it's really because he hasn't had a partner for quite a while, or if it's solely because of Ben. It seems like they spent the entire night just like this, in each other's arms, which is a novelty to Joe who generally prefers, like most people, to have enough personal space for sleeping.

"I'm so ridiculously in love with you," he murmurs into Ben's ear, "I can't fucking breathe."

In response, Ben only turns his head more and there are his lips on Joe's, gentle but relentless.

"I can't even speak," Ben gasps in between those absolutely magical kisses, and Joe once again experiences that sensation of falling, when all of his insides seem to squeeze momentarily, but, unlike a real fall, this one is nothing short of amazing.

He suspects he truly _is_ falling, falling in love with Ben, although how on earth he could possibly be even more in love with him is a total mystery to Joe. There are Ben's warm hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, and yes, Joe can relate, he cannot speak either. He cannot think. It seems he wouldn't be able to live if Ben was suddenly whisked away from him.

"Don't go," Joe whispers in dismay, once again remembering that all of this is temporary and Ben is due to leave in a little over a week.

"I've just arrived, Joe, I'm not going anywhere," Ben huffs, "not further away than my own room, anyway."

"That's not enough." Joe shakes his head lightly. His lips brush against Ben's cheek as he speaks. "Come with me to New York after all this is over, for a week or at least a few days, Ben, please. Just the two of us, we don't even need to go anywhere at all, I'm not letting you out of bed anyway. Please? I can't just let you go away from me, I need more of you."

He hears Ben sigh, and it's so shaky in its quality, so desperate and helpless, so matching Joe's own state, that he cannot help clinging even closer to him, kissing his cheek, and then his jaw, and his neck, until Ben lets out a quiet moan.

"I…" Ben gasps. "Oh, this is fucking unbearable."

With a pure effort of will, Joe lifts his head to look at his lover, but it proves to be worthwhile – Ben is absolutely, gloriously beautiful, with his messed-up bed hair and sleepy eyes and flushed cheeks and that look of complete infatuation on his face.

"Please?" Joe repeats, pleadingly. "Stay we me, Ben, just for a while longer."

"I've got lots of shit planned for afterwards," Ben winces, looking less than happy about it. "I'll see what I can do about the tickets," he sighs. "Now come back here, I just hate it when you're away."

He pulls Joe back into his arms and Joe would be insane to resist it. Soft, searching, persistent lips are back on his, kissing him greedily, and Joe responds to them, dissolving in this unimaginable intimacy, tenderness he dared not hope for just a few weeks ago.

"So it was good last night, huh?" Joe asks in between those wonderful kisses.

"What do you think?" Ben smiles against his mouth.

"Well, you looked utterly incapacitated. Which I can take as a compliment to my love-making skills, I guess."

Ben laughs quietly. "Might want to try it one day, too, then."

"Anything Cardboard Ben cannot do to me, I want it," Joe smirks against Ben's cheek, making the latter laugh even more. Ben hugs him properly around the waist and rolls them so that Joe ends up smack on top of him, just like last night.

"I absolutely love your idiotic sense of humour," Ben murmurs.

"It was your own joke, babe," Joe smiles.

"I think that if we keep this on, which I very much want to do, we'll be late for Al's wedding." Ben moves away from him with palpable reluctance. "Or we might have Gwil breaking in and hauling us to the ceremony as we are, which would be utterly embarrassing."

"Uh-huh," Joe sighs, but he doesn't move anywhere. He wonders how the hell they'll pull off spending the entire day not in this marvellous entangled state of crazed infatuation.

"Come to think of it, New York could wait. I might kidnap you and take you back to London with me."

"I thought you said you've got lots of stuff planned there, eh?"

"And some part of that stuff is Lucy's birthday party. She'd be on cloud nine if you visited. No, screw that," Ben grins at him suddenly. "I might bring you along as a surprise birthday present for her."

Joe cannot help a bark of genuine laughter upon hearing that, but he's actually beginning to like the plan. "You're turning me into way too many birthday presents, don't you think?" he asks fondly.

"Well, it's not my fault that – speaking in the language of your immature Instagram fanbase – you're a total _snack,_ Joe."

This gets Joe in stitches, and he crawls back into Ben's welcoming arms, kissing whichever part of his delicious body happens to be there first.

It's frightening how happy he is feeling, as if in life it shouldn't even be allowed to come close to being this profoundly and thoroughly satisfied with everything, for everything to run its course as smoothly as possible and for there to be so many pleasant things and close people and warm friendships around. But despite everything, it seems to be precisely like that. They made a remarkable movie about exceptional people, they made friends they truly love, they had so much fun, they got acquainted with brilliant professionals, and now they are here in Los Angeles nominated for the Golden Globes, in a company of dearest of friends, and apart from that, Joe seems to have been blessed with someone who at least at this point has every chance of becoming the love of _his_ life. 

He couldn't possibly wish for more.                                                                                                                                           

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, all you guys who've read and liked and commented on the previous parts - thank you ever so much for all your good words. It's pure bliss to know that my little scribbles, which I mainly write solely for myself when I am in dire need of some silly fluff in my life, actually resonate with other people. 
> 
> Secondly, I've been out of practice with writing PWP, but those two asked for it, I swear. I wash my hands.
> 
> Thirdly, this is supposed to happen right before the Globes ceremony, technically after the Christmas Rhapsody fic. (Oh Jesus take the wheel, I can't write in straight)
> 
> And finally, the title refers to Depeche Mode's 'Goodnight Lovers', which virtually served as an inspiration for the entire debauchery. The initial quote (*) is from that song, too.


End file.
